The Crab

In tune with writer/director Rona Mark’s attitude towards life on the underside – tell it like it is – there in no point is pussing around. This movie hurts, like a boot in the balls.

The protagonist Levi (Guy Whitney) is a selfish, opinionated, scrounging drunk, who insults those close to him, especially his long-suffering girlfriend (Kelly Dwyer), best mate (Jonathan Wilde) and best mate's significant other (Cass Bugge), for whom he has a fantasy crush. Because he has weird hands (bad make up job), he believes people think he’s a circus freak. Actually, they don’t. They think he’s a jerk.

At first he appears brave with his vociferous stand against academic conformity, after having his thesis rejected for lack of footnotes, while his uncompromising attack on those who disagree with him feels as sharp as razor wire. However, his raison d’etre disintegrates once all night gin joints take the place of university campus and Sex, Drugs & Cynicism is the only show in town.

Levi is so full of bile and self pity, empathy lies bleeding in the gutter. If you care for him and express sympathy for his disability you might last the course. Otherwise walk away while you still have the chance. As a portrait of 21st century man, with his obsession for porn sites, casual blow jobs and dysfunctional relationships, the film is contemporary. If Tracey Emin’s unmade bed became a symbol of sexual liberation in 1999, The Crab might be recognised in 2010 as the ultimate truth about arsehole losers who don’t give a shit about anyone but themselves.